In the small town of Meadville, Pennsylvania, where quiet streets wind past rows of trees and everyone knows each other by name, Ross Andrew McGinnis grew up like any other American child. Nothing in his early years made people think he would one day become one of the most highly honored soldiers in the country.

Ross was born on June 14, 1987, into a normal family, not a long line of military tradition. His childhood was filled with afternoons playing in the yard, ball games with friends, and weekend camping trips.

But there was one small detail—something that seemed completely ordinary—that people would later remember.

One day in kindergarten, the teacher asked the class to complete a simple sentence:

“When I grow up, I want to be ______.”

Some children wrote “doctor,” others wrote “pilot,” “police officer,” or “baseball player.” They were the kinds of innocent dreams that change from year to year.

Ross picked up his pencil and carefully wrote his answer.

He wrote:
“A soldier.”

Not a superhero, not a TV star, but a soldier—a choice that sounded almost too serious for a kindergartner.

Ross’s family later said he had always been drawn to the image of the military. He liked watching movies about soldiers and listening to stories of courage and brotherhood. But Ross wasn’t an aggressive child. On the contrary, he was gentle, quiet, and deeply caring toward others.

Neighbors remembered him as a polite boy, always ready to help when someone needed it. If he saw an elderly person carrying heavy groceries, Ross would run over to help. If friends got into trouble, he was often the one trying to make peace.

Ross’s childhood was closely tied to the Boy Scouts. There, he learned how to pitch tents, start fires, navigate in the woods, and most importantly, how to take responsibility. Weekend camping trips and lessons about honor and loyalty slowly shaped his character.

Friends from the Scouts remembered that Ross wasn’t the one who talked the most, but he was always the one who did the most. When a campsite needed to be set up, he was first to start. When rain came, he helped younger scouts secure their tents. Small actions, repeated again and again, made people trust him.

Besides the Scouts, Ross also loved sports. He played ball, ran, and joined outdoor activities. But his special passion was something quite different: cars.

Ross loved fixing things from a young age. He could spend hours in the garage, hands covered in grease, carefully taking apart and reassembling mechanical parts. To him, fixing machines wasn’t just work—it was like solving a puzzle that required patience and precision.

Friends said Ross could help repair bicycles, lawn mowers, and even neighbors’ cars. He didn’t mind getting his hands dirty, and he always smiled when an engine came back to life.

During his high school years, Ross wasn’t the most famous student. He wasn’t the top athlete, nor the highest-ranking student academically. But he was the kind of person everyone liked.

Teachers remembered him as a hardworking student, always on time and rarely causing trouble. Friends remembered him as someone they could rely on. And his family knew that Ross carried a dream in his heart from a very early age.

He wanted to be a soldier.

Not for fame. Not for money. Ross simply believed it was a way to serve his country and protect others.

In 2004, on his 17th birthday, Ross made a decision that filled his family with both pride and worry. He enrolled in the U.S. Army’s delayed entry program. That meant that right after graduating high school, he would officially join the military.

For Ross, it wasn’t an impulsive decision. It was something he had thought about since he was very young—since the day he held a pencil in kindergarten and wrote two simple words: “a soldier.”

His family kept that old worksheet as a keepsake. They never knew that one day, those childish words would feel like a prophecy.

Ross grew up to be exactly the kind of person he once dreamed of becoming: someone who put others before himself, someone who believed in responsibility, loyalty, and honor.

The camping trips, the ball games, the hours spent fixing cars in the garage—all of it helped shape the young man that the entire nation would one day come to know.

But in those early years, Ross was simply a boy from Meadville—a boy with a gentle smile, grease-stained hands, and a very clear dream.

A dream he had written down before he even understood what war was.

“When I grow up, I want to be a soldier.”